READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |
BOOK I
FROM THE PERSECUTION OF THE CHURCH BY NERO TO CONSTANTINE’S EDICT OF TOLERATION. A.D. 64-313.CHAPTER II.
THE REIGNS OF TRAJAN AND HADRIAN,A.D. 98-138
Christianity was no longer to be confounded with
Judaism. The great majority of the converts were of Gentile race; and the
difference of manners and observances between the followers of the two
religions was such as could not be overlooked when exhibited in large bodies of
persons. But still the newer system was regarded as an offshoot of the older;
its adherents were exposed to all the odium of a Jewish sect. Indeed, the
Christian religion must have appeared the more objectionable of the two, since
it not only was exclusive, but instead of being merely or chiefly national, it
claimed the allegiance of all mankind.
Strange and horrible charges began to be current
against the Christians. The secrecy of their meetings for worship was ascribed,
not to its true cause, the fear of persecution, but to a consciousness of
abominations which could not bear the light. “Thyestean banquets”,
promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, and magical rites were popularly imputed
to them. The Jews were especially industrious in inventing and propagating such
stories, while some of the heretical parties, which now began to vex the church,
both brought discredit on the Christian name by their own practices, and were
forward to join in the work of slander and persecution against the faithful.
And, no doubt, among the orthodox themselves there must have been some by whom
the Gospel had been so misconceived that their behaviour towards
those without the church was repulsive and irritating, so as to give
countenance to the prejudices which regarded the faith of Christ as a gloomy
and unsocial superstition.
It is a question whether at this time there were
any laws of the Roman empire against Christianity. On the one hand,
it has been maintained that those of Nero and Domitian had been repealed; on
the other hand, Tertullian states that, although all the other acts of Nero
were abrogated, those against the Christians still remained; and the records of
the period convey the idea that the profession of the Gospel was
legally punishable. Even if it was no longer condemned by any special statute,
it fell under the general law which prohibited all such religions as had not
been formally sanctioned by the state. And this law, although it might usually
be allowed to slumber, could at any time have been enforced; not to speak of
the constant danger from popular tumults, often incited by persons who felt
that their calling was at stake—priests, soothsayers, statuaries, players,
gladiators, and others who depended for a livelihood on the worship of the
heathen gods, or on spectacles which the Christians abhorred.
Trajan, the successor of Nerva, although
not free from serious personal vices, was long regarded by the Romans as the
ideal of an excellent prince; centuries after his death, the highest wish that
could be framed for the salutation of a new emperor was a prayer that he might
be “more fortunate than Augustus, and better than Trajan”. In the history of
the church, however, Trajan appears to less advantage. Early in his reign he
issued an edict against guilds or clubs, apprehending that they might become
dangerous to the state; and it is easy to imagine how this edict might be
turned against the Christians—a vast brotherhood, extending through all known
countries both within and beyond the empire, bound together by intimate ties,
maintaining a lively intercourse and communication with each other, and having
much that seemed to be mysterious both in their opinions and in their practice.
In this reign falls the martyrdom of the
venerable Simeon, the kinsman of our Lord, brother (or perhaps cousin) of
James the Just, and his successor in the see of Jerusalem. It is said that some
heretics denounced him to the proconsul Atticus as a Christian and a descendant
of David. During several days the aged bishop endured a variety of tortures
with a constancy which astonished the beholders; and at last he was crucified
at the age of a hundred and twenty.
A curious and interesting contribution to the
church-history of the time is furnished by the correspondence of the younger
Pliny. Pliny had been sent as proconsul into Pontus and Bithynia, a region of
mixed population, partly Asiatic and partly Greek, with a considerable infusion
of Jews. That the Gospel had early found an entrance into those countries
appears from the address of St. Peter’s First Epistle; and its prevalence there
in the second century is confirmed by the testimony of the heathen Lucian. The
circumstances of Pliny’s government forced on him the consideration of a
subject which had not before engaged his attention. Perhaps, as has been
conjectured, the first occasion which brought the new religion under his notice
may have been the celebration of Trajan’s Quindecennalia—the
fifteenth anniversary of his adoption as the heir of the empire; for
solemnities of this kind were accompanied by pagan rites, in which it was
unlawful for Christians to share.
The proconsul was perplexed by the novelty of
the circumstances with which he had to deal. He found that the temples of the
national religion were almost deserted: that the persons accused of
Christianity were very numerous; that they were of every age, of both sexes, of
all ranks, and were found not only in the towns, but in villages and country
places. Pliny was uncertain as to the state of the laws, and in his difficulty
he applied to the emperor for instructions. He states the course which he
had pursued: he had questioned the accused repeatedly; of those who
persisted in avowing themselves Christians, he had ordered some to be put to
death, and had reserved others, who were entitled to the privileges of Roman
citizens, with the intention of sending them to the capital. “I had no doubt”,
he says, “that, whatever they might confess, wilfulness and
inflexible obstinacy ought to be punished”. Many who were anonymously accused
had cleared themselves by invoking the gods, by offering incense to the statues
of these and of the emperor, and by cursing the name of Christ. Some, who had
at first admitted the charge, afterwards declared that they had abandoned
Christianity three, or even twenty, years before; yet the governor was unable
to extract from these anything to the discredit of the faith which they
professed to have forsaken. They stated that they had been in the habit of
meeting before dawn on certain days; that they sang alternately a hymn to
Christ as God. Instead of the expected disclosures as to seditious engagements,
licentious orgies, and unnatural feasts, Pliny could only find that they bound
themselves by an oath to abstain from theft, adultery, and breach of promise or
trust; and that at a second meeting, later in the day, they partook in common
of a simple and innocent meal (the agape or love-feast, which was connected
with the Eucharist). He put two deaconesses to the torture; but even this
cruelty failed to draw forth evidence of anything more criminal than a
“perverse and immoderate superstition”. In these circumstances Pliny asks the
emperor with what penalties Christianity shall be visited; whether it shall be
punished as in itself a crime, or only when found in combination with other
offences; whether any difference shall be made between the treatment of the
young and tender, and that of the more robust culprits; and whether a recantation
shall be admitted as a title to pardon. He concludes by stating that the
measures already taken had recovered many worshippers for the lately deserted
temples, and by expressing the belief that a wise and moderate policy would
produce far more numerous reconversions.
Trajan, in his answer, approves of the measures
which Pliny had reported to him. He prefers entrusting the governor with a
large discretionary power to laying down a rigid and uniform rule for all
cases. The Christians, he says, are not to be sought out; if detected and
convicted, they are to be punished; but a denial of Christ is to be admitted as
clearing the accused, and no anonymous information are to be received
against them.
The policy indicated in these letters has been
assailed by the sarcasm of Tertullian, and his words have often been echoed and
quoted with approbation by later writers—forgetful that the conduct of Trajan
and his minister ought to be estimated, not by the standard either of true
religion or of strict and consistent reasoning, but as that of heathen
statesmen. We may deplore the insensibility which led these eminent men to set
down our faith as a wretched fanaticism, instead of being drawn by the moral beauty
of the little which they were able to ascertain into a deeper inquiry, which
might have ended in their own conversion. We may dislike the merely political
view which, without taking any cognizance of religious truth, regarded religion
only as an affair of state, and punished dissent from the legal system as a
crime against the civil authority. We may pity the blindness which was unable
to discern the inward and spiritual strength of Christianity, and supposed that
a judicious mixture of indulgence and severity would in no long time extinguish
it. But if we fairly consider the position from which Trajan and Pliny were
obliged to regard the question, instead of joining in the apologist's
complaints against the logical inconsistency of their measures, we shall be
unable to refuse the praise of wise liberality to the system of conniving at
the existence of the new religion, unless when it should be so forced on the
notice of the government as to compel the execution of the laws.
Under Trajan took place the martyrdom of
Ignatius—one of the most celebrated facts in early church-history, not only on
its own account, but because of the interest attached to the epistles which
bear the name of the venerable bishop. The birthplace of Ignatius is matter of
conjecture, and his early history is unknown. He is described as a hearer of
St. John; and he was raised to the bishopric of Antioch, as the successor
of Enodius, about the year 70. For nearly half a
century he had governed that church, seated in the capital of Syria, a city
which numbered 200,000 inhabitants; and to the authority of his position was
added that of a wise and saintly character.
It is uncertain to which of the visits which
Trajan paid to Antioch the fate of Ignatius ought to be referred. The Acts of
his martyrdom relate that he “was voluntarily led” before the emperor—an
expression which may mean either that he was led as a criminal, without
attempting resistance or escape; or that he himself desired to be conducted
into Trajan’s presence, with a view of setting forth the case of the
Christians, and with the resolution, if his words should fail of success, to
sacrifice himself for his faith and for his people. The details of the scene
with the emperor are suspicious, as the speeches attributed to Trajan appear to
be too much in the vein of a theatrical tyrant; his sentence was, that Ignatius
should be carried to Rome, and there exposed to wild beasts. Perhaps the
emperor may have hoped to overcome the constancy of the aged bishop by the
fatigues of the long journey, and by the terrors of the death which awaited
him. At least we may suppose him to have reckoned on striking fear into other
Christians, by the spectacle of a man so venerable in character and so eminent
in place hurried over sea and land to a dreadful and degrading death—the
punishment of the lowest criminals, and especially of persons convicted
of those magical practices which were commonly imputed to the Christians.
Perhaps he may even have thought that the exemplary punishment of one
conspicuous leader would operate as a mercy to the multitude, by deterring them
from the forbidden religion; and we find in fact that, while the victim was on
his way to Rome, his church, which he had left to the charge of God as
its Pastor, was allowed to remain in peace.
Ignatius, who had welcomed his condemnation, and
had willingly submitted to be bound, was committed to the charge of ten
soldiers, who treated him with great harshness. They conducted him to Seleucia,
and thence by sea to Smyrna, where he was received by the bishop, Polycarp—like
himself a disciple of St. John, and destined to be a martyr for the Gospel. The
report of his sentence and of his intended route had reached the churches of
Asia; and from several of these deputations of bishops and clergy had been sent
to Smyrna, with the hope of mingling with him in Christian consolation, and
perhaps of receiving some spiritual gift from him. He charged the bishops of
Ephesus, Magnesia, and Tralles, with letters
addressed to their respective churches; and, as some members of the Ephesian
church were proceeding to Rome by a more direct way than that which he was
himself about to take, he seized the opportunity of writing by them to his
brethren in the capital. At Troas he was met by the bishop of Philadelphia; and
thence he wrote to that church, as also to the Smyrnaeans, and to their
bishop, Polycarp.
The epistles to the churches are in general full
of solemn and affectionate exhortation. The venerable writer recalls to the
minds of his readers the great truths of the Gospel—dwelling with especial
force on the reality of our Lord’s manhood, and of the circumstances of His
history, by way of warning against the docetic errors which had begun
to infest the Asiatic churches even during the lifetime of St. John. A tendency
to Judaism (or rather to heresies of a judaizing character)
is also repeatedly denounced. Submission to the episcopal authority is strongly
inculcated throughout. Ignatius charges the churches to do nothing without
their bishops; he compares the relation of presbyters to bishops with that of
the strings to the harp; he exhorts that obedience given to the bishops as to
Christ himself and to the Almighty Father. The frequent occurrence of such
exhortations, and the terms in which the episcopal office is extolled, have
been, in later times, the chief inducements to question the genuineness of the
epistles altogether, or to suppose that they have been largely interpolated
with the view of serving a hierarchical interests. It must, however, be
remembered that the question is not whether a ministry of three orders was by
this time organized, but merely whether Ignatius’ estimation of the episcopal
dignity were somewhat higher or lower; and it has been truly remarked that the
intention of the passages in question is not to exalt the hierarchy, but to
persuade to Christian unity, of which the episcopate was the visible keystone.
The Epistle to the Romans is written in a more
ardent strain than the others. In it Ignatius bears witness to the faith and
the good deeds of the Church of Rome. He expresses an eager desire for the
crown of martyrdom, and entreats that the Romans will not, through mistaken
kindness, attempt to prevent his fate. “I am”, he says, “the wheat of God; let
me be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of
Christ. Rather do you encourage the beasts that they may become my tomb, and may
leave nothing of my body, so that when dead I may not be troublesome to any
one”. He declares that he wishes the lions to exercise all their
fierceness on him; that if, as in some other cases, they should show any
unwillingness, he will himself provoke them to attack him.
It has been asked whether these expressions were
agreeable to the spirit of the Gospel. Surely we need not hesitate to answer.
The aspirations of a tried and matured saint are not to be classed with that
headstrong spirit which at a later time led some persons to provoke persecution
and death, so that the church saw fit to restrain it by refusing the honours of
martyrdom to those who should suffer in consequence of their own violence.
Rather they are to be regarded as a repetition of St. Paul’s “readiness to be
offered up”; of his desire “to depart and to be with Christ”. To a man like
Ignatius, such a death might reasonably seem as a token of the acceptance of
his labours; while it afforded him an opportunity of signally witnessing
to the Gospel, and of becoming an offering for his flock.
From Troas he took ship
for Neapolis in Macedonia; thence he crossed the continent
to Epidamnus, where he again embarked; and, after sailing round the south
of Italy, he landed at Portus (Porto), near Ostia. His keepers
hurried him towards Rome—fearing lest they should not arrive in time for the
games at which it was intended to expose him. On the way he was met by some
brethren from the city, whom he entreated, even more earnestly than in his
letter, that they would do nothing to avert his death and, after having prayed
in concert with them for the peace of the church, and for the continuance of
love among the faithful, he was carried to the amphitheatre, where he
suffered in the sight of the crowds assembled on the last day of
the Sigillaria—a festival annexed to the Saturnalia. It is related that,
agreeably to the wish which he had expressed, no part of his body was left,
except a few of the larger and harder bones; and that these were collected by
his brethren, and reverently conveyed to Antioch, being received with honour by
the churches on the way.
Within a few months after the martyrdom of
Ignatius (if the late date of it be correct), Trajan was succeeded by
Hadrian. The new emperor—able, energetic, inquisitive and versatile, but
capricious, paradoxical, and a slave to a restless vanity—was not likely
to appreciate Christianity rightly. It is, however, altogether unjust to class
him (as was once usual) among the persecutors of the church; for there is no
ground for supposing him to have been personally concerned in the persecutions
which took place during the earlier years of his reign, and under him the
condition of the Christians was greatly improved.
The rescript of Trajan to Pliny had both
its favourable and its unfavourable side: while it
discouraged anonymous and false information, it distinctly marked the
profession of the Gospel as a crime to be punished on conviction; and very soon
a way was found to deprive the Christians of such protection as they might have
hoped to derive from the hazardous nature of the informer’s office. They were
no longer attacked by individual accusers; but at public festivals the
multitudes assembled in the amphitheatres learnt to call for a
sacrifice of the Christians, as wretches whose impiety was the cause of floods
and earthquakes, of plagues, famines, and defeats; and it was seldom that a
governor dared to refuse such a demand.
A visit of Hadrian to Athens, when he was
initiated into the mysteries of Eleusis, excited the heathen inhabitants with
the hope of gratifying their hatred of the Christians; and the occasion induced
two of these—Quadratus, who had been an “evangelist”, or missionary, and
Aristides, a converted philosopher—to address the emperor in written arguments
for their religion. The “Apologies” appear to have been well received; and they
became the first in a series of works which powerfully and effectively set forth
the truth of the Gospel, in contrast with the fables and the vices of
heathenism. About the same time a plea for justice and toleration was offered
by a heathen magistrate. Serennius Granianus, when about to leave the proconsulship of
Asia, represented to Hadrian the atrocities which were committed in compliance
with the popular clamours against the Christians; and the emperor, in
consequence, addressed letters to Minucius Fundanus,
the successor of Granianus, and to other
provincial governors. He orders that the Christians should no longer be given
up to the outcries of the multitude; if convicted of any offence, they are to
be sentenced according to their deserts; but the forms of law must be duly
observed, and the authors of unfounded charges are to be severely punished.
This rescript was valuable, as affording protection against a new form of
persecution; but it was still far from establishing a complete toleration,
since it omitted to define whether Christianity were in itself a crime, and
thus left the matter to the discretion or caprice of the local magistrates.
The reign of Hadrian was very calamitous for the
Jews. In the last years of Trajan there had been Jewish insurrections in Egypt,
Cyprus, Mesopotamia, and. elsewhere, which had been put down with great
severity, and had drawn fresh oppressions on the whole people. By these, and
especially by the insult which Hadrian offered to their religion, in settling a
Roman colony on the site of the holy city, the Jews of Palestine were excited
to a formidable revolt, under a leader who assumed the name of Barcochab, and was believed by his followers to be the
Messiah. After a protracted and very bloody war, the revolt was suppressed.
Many Jews were put to death, some were sold at the price of horses, others were
transported from the land of their fathers; and no Jew was allowed to approach
Jerusalem except on one day in the year—the anniversary of the capture by
Titus, when, for a heavy payment, they were admitted to mourn over the seat of
their fallen greatness. The Roman city of Aelia Capitolina was
built on the foundations of Jerusalem; a temple of Jupiter defiled Mount Zion;
and it is said that profanations of a like kind were committed in the places
hallowed by the birth, the death, and the burial of our Lord.
While the revolt was as yet successful, the
Christians of Palestine suffered severely for refusing to acknowledge Barcochab. The measures of Hadrian, after its suppression,
led to an important change in the church of Jerusalem. Wishing to disconnect
themselves visibly from the Jews, the majority of its members abandoned the
Mosaic usages which they had until then retained; they chose for the first time
a bishop of Gentile race, and conformed to the practice of Gentile churches. On
these conditions they were allowed to reside in Aelia, while such of their
brethren as still adhered to the distinctively Jewish Christianity retired to
Pella and other places beyond the Jordan, where their fathers had found a
refuge during the siege of Jerusalem by Titus.
CHAPTER III.
THE REIGNS OF THE ANTONINES
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